Hedwig's Tale
by ZenaraTheDragon
Summary: Hermione's spells always work. But do they always have the desired effect? Set sometime in the 3rd-4th books, NOT Hedwig/Harry. Now with chapter titles!
1. The Girl

Harry peeked into the library. It was unusually quiet, with only the sour-faced librarian behind her desk and a towhead fourth- or fifth-year Ravenclaw girl reading at a window.

The Ravenclaw glanced up sharply as Harry walked in, studying him with pale hazel eyes. Flipping her white hair over her shoulder, she scrunched her shoulders and nestled her pale face further into her scarf- not the usual Ravenclaw colors, Harry noted, but a homemade-looking black-and-white scarf.

Taking a table far from the girl, Harry sat down to write his letter.

* * *

When Harry was done writing, the girl looked up with a sigh, snapping her book shut.

"You," she said, passing Harry, "Write too much."

And she was gone from the library, leaving a shiver of winter wind in her wake.

Harry blinked as he watched the door she'd disappeared through. Then the girl poked her head back inside.

"And do you have any idea how cold the Owlrey is this time of year?" she demanded rhetorically, disappearing again within moments of asking the question.

* * *

The owl post flew in with a gust of snow the next morning, showering the Great Hall with a fine layer of white.

"Where's Hedwig?" Hermione asked, scanning the ceiling.

"Dunno," Harry said, absently looking up. "She's harder to see when the owls bring snow with them."

"There she is," Ron said, pointing across the Hall with his toast and narrowly missing Neville with a flying blob of jam.

Hedwig spiraled down to land on the table, shaking her snow-coated feathers out over everyone's food. Dropping the _Daily Prophet _into Harry's lap, she helped herself to a piece of bacon, blinking at Harry with amused gold eyes.

"Would you like some bacon?" Harry asked, slightly exasperated. He reached up and stroked Hedwig's head.

"How is she?" Hermione asked, slightly nervously.

"Fine. Why?"

"Well," she began, "The other day, I was down by Hagrid's pumpkin patch, you know, where the tree line begins? I was there, trying out an old spell I found in this book- it was written in some ancient language, I'd found it and translated most of it- and, this spell, see, it's supposed to grant speech to, say, trees or animals. I wanted to try it, so I-"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted, "Get to the point!"

Hermione shot him a glare, then continued. "Basically, I was trying this spell on a tree, when Hedwig flew down and startled me. I- I think the spell misfired, and I'm not sure if she was caught in it..." Hermione trailed off, looking between Harry and Hedwig.

Harry blinked a few times. "Um. You hexed my owl?"

"I don't know?"

"You don't know?" Harry and Ron exchanged disbelieving looks. This was a rare occurrence.

"We could at least find out if the spell- if it hit Hedwig- did what it was supposed to," Hermione suggested.

Harry looked at his bacon-munching owl.

"Hedwig, can you talk?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Hedwig blinked at him, looking extremely intelligent. She hooted.

"Well," Harry said, "That's that."

Hermione sighed and reached across the table to pet Hedwig.

"I guess it is," she said quietly.


	2. The Meeting

A strange gathering of various life forms was assembled behind a ruined stone wall on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. A large black dog, a cat, a beetle, and two sticklike bowtruckles were gathered, waiting almost impatiently. As they sat, a large white owl dropped from the wings of the wind to land on the wall, surveying the gathering with large golden eyes.

A twig snapped with an air of intentionality, announcing the arrival of a gray tabby cat who looked most displeased.

'I apologize for my tardiness. Despite many students being off-grounds, I am, apparently, still in high demand as a teacher, counsellor, and personal confidant, among other things,' Professor McGonagall, for it was she, explained as she sat stiffly against a wall, sheltered from the light wind.

The dog whuffed in amusement. 'Well, Hogwarts always was kind of a busy place. Not much to be done about it.'

The Professor fixed him with a glare only a cat could muster.

'However,' she said coolly, 'We have another issue to discuss.'

The owl nodded gravely. 'The student, and the attempted spell.'

McGonagall sighed. 'Yes.'

The other cat, a scruffy ginger tom, sneezed and twitched his tail. 'Can't say there's much more to discuss. The tree's fine, the student wasn't tryin' to harm anyone, and pool ol' Wiggy got stuck with a complication. But where do we go from here?'

'That's what we were going to discuss, Crookshanks,' Hedwig said icily, spreading one snow-white wing to examine the white flakes gathering on the feathers.

'Good.'

'The spell, from what I've heard, seems to be a modification of the Dixus Charm, which is innocuous in itself, and seems to have inspired the Muggle items known as 'audiobooks'? However, _this_ spell, charm, transfiguration- is much more, how shall I put it, aggressive.'

'I could discreetly advertise a request for known variations on this particular charm,' the beetle clicked. 'I know of one already- the one used to enchant my note-taking quill?'

'Oh, yes, we're all quite familiar with that,' the dog snorted. 'It's been plaguing Harry. And, honestly, as if anything coming out of you could be discreet! The Skeeter bug and Discreet don't mix.'

'Noted,' the beetle sniffed, disdain etched in every inflection of the word.

'If we could get back to the matter at hand?' McGonagall asked.

One of the bowtruckles leaped up and started clicking and whistling animatedly, waving its sharp fingers about. McGonagall pulled her tail out of the thing's way before turning to Rita Skeeter for help. 'You can talk to the things, I was told?'

The beetle sighed and clicked at the bowtruckle, eventually calming the sticklike creature down. 'It says our student nearly brought its tree to life,' she said. McGonagall's eyes widened. 'An ent?'

The bowtruckle nodded emphatically. It chirped some more, gesticulating wildly toward Hedwig.

'I knew it would happen,' the owl said quietly, 'And I had to prevent it. An ent running loose could be disastrous.'

'You were struck with the full spell,' McGonagall said gently. Hedwig nodded.

Crookshanks shook his head. 'So, what's it done to ya?' he asked.

'I'll show you.' Hedwig _shimmered, _just barely more magic than an animagus's shift evident in the transformation. A white-haired girl no more than fourteen, in Ravenclaw robes, sat on the wall where Hedwig had been.

* * *

A/N: Since I forgot to put this in the first chapter, updates on this will probably be few and far between until I figure out where this is going. Also: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far: **Ludost**, a guest called Little Monstah, and **cjsmalley** ! And so, this will be updated again, on pain of discontinued existence by cjsmalley!


	3. The Note

The next morning was accompanied by the owl post as usual.

Hedwig flew in after the other owls, a smudge of snow against the enchanted ceiling. She spiraled slowly down towards Harry at the Gryffindor table, shifting the leg carrying the Letter.

This little note, she thought again, This is what will start something.

Harry watched his owl float lazily down, landing softly beside his plate and taking her now-customary bacon bit. Harry shook his head and detatched the morning mail from Hedwig's leg. Aside from the Daily Prophet, there was a small piece of parchment that fell out of the newspaper.

Frowning, Harry picked it out of his breakfast and unfurled it.

The words were rough, as though written with an untipped quill, but the handwriting was sharp and flowing at the same time, beautiful on the scrap of a page:

_Ask her about the owl and the spell. The forest is waiting._

_- H. Quillenne_

"What?" Harry asked as he reread it.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"I dunno. Some letter. Have you heard of an H. Quillenne?"

"No..." Hermione frowned at the parchment. " 'The owl and the spell'? Could this be about Hedwig? I thought she was all right?"

Harry shrugged.

Ron leaned across the table and peered at the upside-down words. "The forest is waiting? What's that supposed to mean? Whoever sent this is a nutter, I'd say."

Harry shrugged again and stuffed the note in his pocket, where it was forgotten as Hedwig upturned his goblet in taking off.

* * *

Harry remembered the note just before lunch. Pulling it out of his pocket, slightly crumpled but none the worse for the wear, he glanced at and decided to respond. "I need to find a book in the library," he said suddenly. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up."

Ron looked horrified. "Hermione, you've corrupted him!"

* * *

Imstead of the library, Harry navigated the shifting stairs up to the Owlrey, trying to formulate an appropriate reply.

_Who are you, and what's happened to my owl?_

He grimaced. He didn't know anything _had_ happened to Hedwig.

_What do you mean, 'The forest is waiting'?_

Closer, but he also wanted to know about Hedwig.

As he entered the Owlrey, instinctively scanning for the white of Hedwig's feathers, he decided on a generic but information-gathering response:

_Can you be more specific?_

* * *

The Ravenclaw girl stared down at the head of the intruder from one of the highest windows.

_Well,_ she amended to herself, _Intruder isn't the right word. Guest, perhaps._

Of course, the others saw him as an intruder. A head to be targeted. One of them might deign to flutter down and allow a letter to be attached to their leg, after much coaxing and cajoling. Hedwig wished she had feathers to ruffle. Of course, _she_ was always willing to deliver letters for Harry.

"Looking for someone?" she called down, watching Harry turn around confusedly before looking up. She waved a little in greeting.

"Erm, yes, actually," Harry said. "Have you seen a white owl in here?"

"She just left. Probably hunting."

Harry nodded and stared around awkwardly. "Sorry, but... Why're you in the window?"

Hedwig shrugged. "I like it up here. The view, the wind in my hair..." She nestled her face further into her scarf.

"Oh. Is it kind of like being on a broom?" Hedwig smiled at his question.

"I dunno. I've never been on a broom." _I've never needed one._

"Never?"

"The silly thing wouldn't come to me my first flight class. I never really came to flight class again after that."

"Oh."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"You came to send a letter, then? Or just visit the owls?" Hedwig gazed down at him.

Harry's face colored red, and he tried to coax a barn owl down from one of the lowest perches. It refused wholeheartedly, screeching at him.

"Albin, behave!" Hedwig called sharply. The owl screeched again, but hopped onto Harry's outstretched fist anyways. "Thanks," Harry said. "How'd you get him to do that?"

"I've worked with them for a while now. Trained a few of them myself." _Yeah, helped guide the new featherbrains who couldn't tell Surrey from Scotland._

"Oh."

"Albin's always been a bother. He's uncooperative. Greta would deliver whatever you're sending much faster," Hedwig said, gesturing to a Great Grey owl on the next perch above Albin's. Harry nodded, shooing away Albin and calling softly to Greta. The owl spread her broad gray wings and floated down without complaint, holding her leg out for Harry's message. After sending Greta off, he turned to thank the mysterious girl, but she had vanished.

* * *

Harry was awakened around one in the morning by a tapping on his window. Blearily gazing at a fuzzy white form, his brain pieced together that Hedwig wanted to be let in. Sighing, Harry grabbed his glasses to leave the coziness of his bed and tiptoe across the cold floor to the window.

Letting his owl in, he noticed a piece of parchment tied to her leg. _Who sends a letter in the middle of the bloody night? _he wondered tiredly as he untied the note. It was written in the same scratchy, flowing script as the one preceeding it, and it said,

_More specific about what? Please be more specific._

_-H. Quillenne_

* * *

A/N: Please don't disembowl me, cjsmalley! Here's another chapter, just for you! Not the rest of those people... those people who don't review...

And for the record, I was serious about this not getting updated but for reviews! You who like this fic should all thank cjsmalley for threatening me!


	4. The Answer?

A white owl tapped on the window of Professor McGonagall's office. As the witch hurried across the room to open the window, the owl shifted its wings, looking behind it to see if it had been followed.

As Hedwig fluttered inside and lit on the floor, becoming a white-haired Ravenclaw girl, McGonagall waved a scrap of parchment vehemently at the enchanted bird.

"For heaven's sake, Hedwig-"

"Quillienne, if you please. Using the name Harry gave me may raise questions."

"-Fine, Quillienne- You _must_ do _something!_ They cannot be left in the dark for so long! And especially not with little notes and hints. They'll go investigating, you know how they are!"

Quillienne nodded. "I'll tell them soon," she promised. "But perhaps they _should_ find the answers themselves. You ought to teach a class on how to ask intriguing and useful questions. I sent Harry a- a 'little note', as you put it. Really, it was rather unfairly secretive, but do you know what he asked in his reply?"

McGonagall shook her head.

" 'Can you be more specific'. More specific? And that was most likely the vaguest question ever to be asked."

"Quillienne, this is beside the point. Potter already suspects something- what did you tell him in this note?"

Hedwig sighed. " 'Ask her about the owl and the spell. The forest is waiting.' "

"Hmph. _Quite_ mysterious. _Why_ don't you just tell him everything?"

"This has to be seen, not shown," Hedwig sighed. "He won't realize what I'm showing him unless he knows what it is. They'll investigate; you said it yourself. They're sure to find it on their own, and they'll see it. I can guide them towards it, but I can't show it to them."

McGonagall sighed. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"... Nothing is certain. I don't even know if help will be given, at this point. But Harry will need it, given or not. You've heard the whispers?"

"Of course," McGonagall said gravely. "Rumors of You-Know-Who's plans to return."

Hedwig nodded. "I believe if Harry finds it, and convinces the Council to help, You-Know-Who can be stopped in time."

"The Council? You would involve them?"

"They are likely the only ones who will be deciding wether to help or not," Quillienne raised an eyebrow, "So, naturally."

"I just don't know if they'll listen or not."

"Probably not. At least, not unless we do something outrageous."

McGonagall snorted. "Knowing those three, it shouldn't be hard."

"True, true," Quillienne tilted her head to one side. "And they have me."

"You? They know you as an owl. How are you going to reveal yourself, let alone your plans involving the Council?"

"... I'll think of something," Hedwig grimaced, then shifted back into an owl. She launched onto the windowsill, turning back to Professor McGonagall with wide, golden eyes for a moment before taking off into the pale winter sunlight.

* * *

Harry continued to frown at the reply to his question. He'd gotten Hermione to try and coax some magically hidden meaning out of it, but to no avail.

He turned the scrap over one more time, then back to the single line of writing:

_You're joking, right?_

* * *

A/N: SORRY! I haven't updated anything in FOREVER, I know... Yes, it's supposed to be mysterious, no, you're not supposed to know where it's going, no,_ I_ don't know where it's going either! So saying that, feel free to make suggestions or leave your ideas as a review! Even if you don't have ideas, leave a review, or I'll sic **cjsmalley** on you! Who will probably be killing _me_ for not updating sooner, but still...


	5. The Changeling

A/N: Yikes. I... I'm so sorry. I'm still weird about this chapter, don't be surprised if I change it. Let me kn ow if you think Harry is OOC in this one... I haven't read the books in a while.

* * *

Hedwig had been meandering around the castle for the past few days. It wasn't hard; she could come and go through the owlrey as long as nobody was around. She'd been getting used to being human, not having feathers to ruffle or wings to preen. Of course, she had to avoid Harry- he was entirely too curious.

At least, she thought, he asked a better question the second time round.

She pulled the piece of parchment from her pocket.

Do you mean, I should ask about Hedwig, and Hermione's spell?

Hedwig pocketed the note again. Unfortunately, her moment of reading had blinded her to the surrounding students. She bumped into someone.

"You!" the someone gasped.

"Harry," Quillienne nodded, panicking inside.

"Who are you?" Harry asked. "I've never seen you before a few days ago. And you show up just when Hermione tells me she's hexed my owl, and I start getting cryptic notes about the forest?"

Quillienne blinked in surprise. She hoped he hadn't jumped to too many conclusions already.

"Please, will you explain something to me?"

"And how are you so sure I know anything?" Quillienne snapped.

"I dunno- but you're new. And you showing up was kind of weirdly timed, don't you think?"

"So what?"

"So," Harry pestered, "I think you know something."

"You'd be mistaken," Quillienne said, pushing past him.

"Wait!"

Quillienne hurried on, towards the Owlrey. If she could get there first-

"Hold up!"

Quillienne scowled. He wasn't going to give up, she knew that much.

She heard him chasing her as she almost flew through the corridors, running flat-out in the empty ones by the Owlrey.

She reached the doors of the roost first, looking behind her as Harry's footsteps sounded on the stairway. She continued to back up, not wanting to be trapped.

* * *

"Hey," Harry panted, entering the Owlrey after the mystery Ravenclaw. "Just tell me-" he stopped short as the girl backed out of an open window.

Harry rushed to the ledge, catching sight of a frightedned face and flapping black robes before the girl _shimmered_- and a snow-white owl righted itself in the air and glided up to a perch in the Owlrey.

"...Hedwig?" Harry gasped in confusion. "You're an animagus?!"

Hedwig fluttered down, shimmering into the girl again. "Sort of," the white-haired Ravenclaw said.

"But you- how?"

"Hermione hexed me," she said simply. "I had to stop he spell from reaching the tree she was aiming at. She's brilliant at magic, your friend, but she needs to translate all of an ancient text before trying anything."

"What would have happened?"

"She would have made a tree sentient and animated."

"... A walking tree?"

"An ent."

Harry frowned. "So you stopped a tree from walking," he concluded. "But how are you human? Were you transfigured into an owl? Why-"

"Harry," Hedwig said sternly. "Shut up and let me explain."

Harry shut up.

"I wasn't able to turn into a human until I took that spell. I'm kind of a reverse animagus- instead of a witch or wizard being able to turn into an animal, I'm an animal that can turn into a- well, a human at least."

"Are you a Muggle?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. I don't have a wand."

Harry dug in his pockets and produced his own holly-and-phoenix-feather.

"Try it," he said, extending the wand to his owl.

Hedwig gripped it uncertainly. "Lumos," she said. The wand-tip glowed. They both smiled.

"Oh," Hedwig said, her smile fading, "This is going to be a puzzle for the Ministry of Magic."

"Huh?" Harry looked up from the lighted wand.

"Nonhumans aren't allowed wands," Hedwig reminded him.

"Er, I think you'd count as human," Harry said. "I mean, animagi count as human. We don't have to let on that you started as an owl."

Hedwig nodded. "And I didn't necessarily get my wand from Ollivander," she said. "I could have had a hand-me-down."

Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, that's the ministry down, mostly," Hedwig said. "But there's still the Council..." she muttered.

"The Council? Who're they?"

Hedwig sighed. "I'm still not _entirely_ sure," she said. "I only learned anything relevant about them recently. They're a branch of Old Magic, to protect the forests that still hold ancient magic."

"Ancient magic? Like what?"

Hedwig tilted her head owlishly. "Several forests in this region hold remnants- or more- of magic from several hundred years ago, spells woven by the druids of King Arthur's time- and some by Merlin himself." Hedwig smiled at Harry's awed look.

"The Council enlisted me to keep track of you when you first started meddling and getting into trouble," Hedwig continued. "They believe you and some of your friends- especially one Luna Lovegood- have remnants of the Old Magic in your magical cores, possibly enabling you to renew some of the ancient enchantments."

"So.. So I can enchant forests?"

"No. You have similar magic to those who alredy have. The Council searches for one in every generation who has the Remnant, and the will and knowlegde to use it wisely."

"I thought you said you'd just learned about them."

Hedwig gazed disapprovingly at him, an expression Harry distinctly recognized from his owl and found unsettling on this girl's face.

"I _have_ known about them for a while. Just not anything other than that they find the one with the Remnant."

"So they protect forests. Or, at least, find magic that matches the magic of the forests."

"Yes. Muggles are the main problem, though. They have no respect for the trees anymore."

Harry looked out the window at the Forbidden Forest. "And... That forest still has magic?"

"Oh yes. Thestrals, centaurs, acromantlas- they prefer to live n magical forests. And this forest is one of the more powerful." Hedwig stepped to the window ledge.

"Harry," she said, "If you _are_ going to investigate..." A white eyebrow raised imperiously, "Bring Luna."

Harry nodded in confusion as Hedwig _shifted_, soaring above the owlrey like a gust of snow.

* * *

A/N: yeah. I'll try to update sooner from now on, but my schedule's about to get crazier. No promises. And I still don't know at all what's going on here. Review, or **cjsmalley** will hunt you down!


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